


curiosity; porcelain

by cyberodian



Series: curiosity [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, I Tried, Reader-Insert, but he knows what he wants ayyyy, i am hiding in the toilets at work to post this, i haven’t posted my writing in literal years, i know i don’t specify ages but they’re both like 18, idek what to tag this as, inexperienced Luke, lord help, luke skywalker is cute and horny, reader is female, set just before a new hope, this is my first post to this website and i am scared lol, writing is more important!, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22447801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberodian/pseuds/cyberodian
Summary: The first part in a lil mini series called ‘Curiosity’ in which Luke thinks veeerrry fondly of you.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Reader, Luke Skywalker/Female Reader, Luke Skywalker/Reader, Luke Skywalker/You
Series: curiosity [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615279
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	curiosity; porcelain

**Author's Note:**

> hey all! just wanted to say thank you so much for clicking on my garbage, i am very grateful! uhh disclaimer real quick: i haven’t posted my trash in literal years so i’m very rusty! i heard ao3 is a super nice place so here i am lmao i hope yall enjoy

Luke flopped onto his bed and sighed heavily as he felt his whole body sink in and mould to the mattress. His feet were throbbing and his shirt was sticking to his back; the Tatooine suns were unforgiving this time of year evidenced by the slick sheen of sweat running down his chest in a fine line and by his damp, shaggy fringe glued to his forehead. Luke pulled at his tunic, loosening it in an attempt to accommodate for the weather. 

Strangely enough, it was cooler in his room than it was outside and the mattress was like a breath of fresh air to his back, some well-earned respite after a hard day’s work. He grunted as he tried to kick off his boots without moving the rest of his body; his legs ached from the constant back-and-forth between vaporators scattered over their land and his arms were weak from the perpetual pumping of water into the storage cisterns from said vaporators.

He’d been lending a hand to his Uncle Owen on the moisture farm all morning and well into the afternoon; it wasn’t an exciting job by any means but it was certainly necessary on a planet such as theirs, especially when the cruellest and most oppressive season of the year came around. Luke had lived there all his life and though he was accustomed to it, it was still very uncomfortable. 

His boots hit the floor with a soft thud and when the cool air of his room embraced his burning feet, the corners of his mouth turned upwards in a satisfied smile. At last, he could relax. 

And relax, he did. Beginning with thoughts of you.

Your memory of Luke went back as far as you could remember; you lived in Anchorhead with your father, a mechanic, who owned a repair shop that also served as a junkyard and trading post between the Wastes and Mos Eisley. You got quite a lot of characters wandering into the garage but none captured your interest quite the way Luke Skywalker did.

While it’s true you’d known Luke since you were children, you couldn’t say you’d spent a lot of time with him growing up. Your father was good friends with a lot of the farmers around the Wastes who would often come to the junkyard to buy parts and, one day, when you were very young, you remembered one of the farmers had fetched his cute, blue-eyed, fair-haired son with him who might have been one or two years older than you were. You weren’t even sure you knew what physical attraction was back then but you were besotted with him. He just radiated charm and joy, something your life was painfully short of at the time. 

So, you stuck to him as much as you could whenever he was around. Your father wouldn’t let you go through the Jundland Wastes by yourself so all you could really do was wait until Owen Lars needed more parts for his farm and hoped against all hope that his nephew was tagging along again. When Luke was around, you felt lighter, you felt happy. He had the most beautiful eyes, the sweetest laugh and oh, stars, when he smiled it was like you’d been stuffed with butterflies because your tummy would flutter in response and your knees would fall a little weak; it was infectious. And though you didn’t know him very well, you could say with confidence that he was kind, selfless and brave. The Tatooine climate resembled everything that swam inside Luke Skywalker’s soul.

Now, friends were few and far between on Tatooine; the vast majority of people your age that you knew had jumped ship every couple of years until you were worried you might have been the only one left. That is until a week ago when you were sat on a pile of junk in the back room of the garage watching the holonet and fanning yourself with your hand to try and keep the heat from turning your face into a sweaty mess, you heard the door open out on the shop floor. Normally, you wouldn’t have budged but when you heard your father say that name you’d committed to memory, Owen, you’d never moved as fast. 

Before that day, you hadn’t seen Luke for a long while and you’d started to think that maybe he’d left the planet too; after all, could you blame him? You were too afraid to ask his Uncle, who kept dropping by every now and then, and even more afraid to ask your father to ask on your behalf, so instead you resigned Luke to thought. The only problem was, if it could even be considered a problem, your thoughts of him were as real as any part of him but thinking of him only served to make you sad in the end.

However, seeing him stood there that day, in the middle of the shop floor, felt too surreal; it was like he’d stepped right out of your every fantasy of seeing him rush through your door again ready to tell you just how much he’d missed you and thought about you every day since he’d been away, scooping you up in his arms and peppering your pink cheeks with precious kisses he’d saved just for you. 

He was more handsome than you remembered; age had treated him well. He was taller now and had longer hair but it suited him. The blueness of his eyes still had you drowning in them but something in the air had changed. When you looked in his eyes you seemed to notice, for perhaps the first time, the _way_ he was looking at you. It was almost like everything else around the two of you had just melted away into a brown and grey blur, like he only had eyes for you. That look had you frozen; you remembered, vividly, the way he’d brazenly dragged his gaze all the way down your body, agonisingly slowly, right in front of your father. He made you feel naked, gaze turning to a leer as his eyes lingered on the soft contours and curves of your body, the new way in which you filled your clothes he’d never seen before; you’d blossomed into a woman and he’d missed it but by the Gods he was going to get his fill of it one way or another; you excited him. At least that’s what you told yourself at the time, but perhaps you were just projecting. You’d had to shake yourself out of your stupor; you were already blushing.

Oh, but Luke definitely _was_ excited as he lay on his bed, eyes lazily closing as he surrendered to thoughts of you. Luke _did_ like you, very much, more than you knew. But he hadn’t the faintest idea how to talk to you! He was severely lacking in experience in the dating department and that came from living on a desert wasteland. You were the prettiest girl for miles. All he knew and understood was that when he looked at you, he _wanted_ you. 

Just thinking about how you might be bent over the hood of a speeder right now, hard at work, the hot suns blazing down on your back, arms elbow deep in machinery and grease, ass up in the air in those tight pants you wore the last time he’d seen you, wiggling the perky little thing right at him....his teeth grazed his bottom lip and he felt that familiar pressure starting to build in his cock. He let his mind wander further; when you’d finish working on the speeder, you’d realise just how filthy you were, covered in dirt and grime, so you’d haul yourself off to the shower. Luke bit back a moan when he envisioned you peeling your sweat-soaked clothes from your beautiful body until you were completely bare. 

Luke licked his lips at the sight of your full thighs and hips, the gentle curvature of your back, your ample breasts. He imagined you under the steady stream of water, hair tumbling down your back, soaking wet in your nakedness, ivory skin glistening. He relished in the way your breasts bobbed at every slight movement you made, pretty pink nipples pointing accusingly at the wall. 

That was all it took to get him stupidly hard.

Luke was certainly no stranger to erections; being a young man he often woke up with a raging one, dick swollen and hard. He would absent-mindedly palm it as he stirred from his sleeping state, barely conscious but _so_ horny. He would sometimes even move one of the pillows down between his legs and rut against it, desperate for friction on his cock, something soft, something he could pretend was your backside laying beside him if he closed his eyes hard enough, something that wasn’t his fucking hand again. 

On this particular heated afternoon however, Luke was too tired to move and too horny to care, so slipped both his hands down his trousers, languidly stroking himself to full length as his eyes fluttered underneath his own touch. One hand gently squeezed at the base of his cock which Luke had learned made the blood rush right to the tip so it became reddened and much more sensitive. He then used his other hand to massage the head of his cock and, with his eyes still firmly shut, he pretended it was you. 

Sweat was collecting on his chest as he bucked upwards, always needing more than what his hands provided. With the softest of sighs, he imagined your pretty lips around his cock, tongue swiping at him and lapping the generous pre-cum that was leaking from his tip. He circled the head with his thumb for a second, trying to imitate your tongue. Then, he stroked the underside of his cock, letting go with his other hand at the base and he felt a sharp relief shoot through him at the release of pressure and his eyes rolled at the feeling. 

His breath caught in his throat when he thought of you caressing his tightening balls with a curious hand while licking a line with the flat of your tongue all the way up the underside of his shaft before engulfing the head in your hot, inviting mouth. A needy moan escaped his lips. He stiffened further when he fancied the look you’d give him with your cock in his mouth, the way you’d look up at him playfully through those heavy-lidded eyes and give his balls an encouraging little squeeze. He tried to echo this too, and he shivered despite the heat radiating from his body.

Then, without warning him, you’d take him to the back of your throat, struggling a little to accommodate for his impressive size, gagging in your efforts. This made Luke groan now as his pleasure heightened and he began to really pump his hand up and down his length. Oh, what he would have given to feel your hot, wet mouth around his hungry cock sucking him to completion instead of his mere hand. He imagined your hollowed cheeks and the feel of your hair balled in his fist as he urged you to take him deeper, faster, applying pressure to the back of your head, pushing you further down on him and hearing you protest a little because he’s just so damn big!

You’d be so wet between your legs just from sucking him off and Luke couldn’t stop himself from moaning your name at this, throwing his head back against the pillows. The motion of his hand running up and down his length made obscene noises from the slick leaking at the head of his cock. He bit his bottom lip harder trying to stop himself from being too loud because his Aunt and Uncle were still home.

Suddenly, as if she’d heard his thoughts, his Aunt Beru called his name from somewhere deep in the homestead, distant but alert. Luke’s eyes snapped open, hair stuck to his face, beads of perspiration on his neck and chest. He swallowed the lump in his throat that he didn’t realise was so dry.

“Luke?” she called again.

With a wobbly voice, hand frozen around his greedy cock, irritated at being interrupted and twitching with want, Luke managed to reply, “yeah, Aunt Beru?”

“Dinner’s nearly ready!”

“Alright, uh....” Luke swallowed again, chest heaving up and down. He gave himself a quick couple of strokes, boldly, looking down as he did so, “...I’ll be there in a minute!”

Luke waited a few moments before allowing himself to relax back into his bed and returned to stroking his dick. He hurried up though; if dinner was nearly ready then his Aunt was more likely to come knocking if he didn’t show at the table soon. He quickened, jacking himself off eagerly, slack-jawed at the pleasure coiling in his core, that familiar white heat rumbling in his belly and making his thighs tremble. 

Fast-forwarding his fantasy, he imagined fucking you, seeing you bouncing on his dick, pussy wet and hot and so, _so_ tight around him, milking him for everything he was worth. He felt it, it was right there, just a little _more_....he increased the pressure on his grip, squeezing, rotating his wrist just around the head of his cock. He was desperate to come and, losing himself to his thoughts, he whispered, “o-oh...I’m so close...” and then he spoke your name like a secret only he was privy to, a whispered prayer in the last dregs of his consciousness.

He wished he was thrusting up into you, burying himself deep inside you and seeing the blissful expression take over your sweet face, cheeks flushed, eyes locked on his as you’d announce that you were coming on his dick. He squeezed himself to mimic the feeling yet again and, this time it pushed him over the edge. He choked back a cry and felt his cock twitching in his hand, toes curling and muscles tensing as his release rocked him right to his very core. He shuddered as he came, coating his palm and lower belly in a hot, sticky warmth. He continued to stroke himself through it until his cock fell limp in his hand. Now _he_ was the one who needed a shower.

He cleaned himself quickly in the washroom adjacent to his room as his aunt called his name again, “Luke! What are you doing up there! Your dinner’s going cold!”

Tiredly, Luke called back, “I’m coming now, Aunt Beru.” 

He would survive a little longer with only his hand for comfort but it was quickly losing its charm; he wanted _you_. And by the Gods, he would have you. 


End file.
